To the End
by ItsLukasBondevik
Summary: Lisa Reisert would like nothing more than to see him behind bars for what he did, but a twist in his sentence leaves her to question her loyalty, and learn the difference between justice and political gain.
1. Chapter 1

The courtroom was stuffy and hot, Lisa noted, sitting at the prosecution's table. There were a lot of people here, and the press was outside, trying to be the first to get information on what was the most high profile criminal case of the century. She was dressed professionally in what she just realized was the blue suit that she had worn to the airport initially, that the woman spilled iced coffee on. Suddenly antsy and uncomfortable, Lisa turned to look at the opposing table that was currently empty.

She hadn't seen him in a long while, since that day in the hospital that she tried to push from her mind every single day since then. Sometimes she was able to do it, but a lot of the time, she couldn't stop thinking about him. Not all thoughts were pleasant, obviously, since he did try to kill her, her father, ruin her career, and murder a politician with her help. Not to mention destroy the hotel she works in and head butt her so hard she was out for half an hour.

Jackson Ripper almost took everything away that was important to her. And she would never forgive him for that. Her nails tapped nervously against the polished wood, wondering if she was going to be able to handle seeing him again. Lisa knew that her emotions could tip one of two ways: she could feel the hatred, the angry, the pain and the horror at what he did, what he could have done, what almost happened to so many people.

Or two, she could feel that shake in her heart, that uncertainty of her emotions when she looked into his eyes, when she remembered how he had been before they had even boarded the plane. He manipulated her from the very start, she saw now. But she also saw a shade of sincerity in the way he spoke to her, about what happened being out of her control. She felt it deep in her soul, in the very core of herself, that he did have a heart somewhere beneath the facade of a murderer and a cold individual. There had to be a human under there somewhere.

Keefe was there too, she noted after a moment of staring around the room, trying to clear her head. She was the star witness of the prosecution, without her, they didn't have a case. Rippner had told her everything, shared every intricate detail of his plot except his employers, but they were hoping that he would accept a plea bargain for that tidbit of information. Lisa swallowed hard, knowing that she couldn't allow herself to be emotionally compromised. This was too important, the outcome to dire for her to mess this up because she didn't know how to feel.

A door opened and a man in the burnt orange prison garb strolled in, looking as though he was the most comfortable person in the world. His hair was pushed back away from his face, his clear blue eyes unafraid and unabashedly looking around the courtroom and, without fail, they found their mark. Lisa nervously met his gaze, and he smiled at her, nodding his head once at her before taking his seat at the table with the defense. As he shifted in his seat, she caught a glimpse of the stark white bandages on his throat, and felt guilty for that. She shook her head, knowing that he deserved it.

The ceremony was a blur to her, speeches and statements and the judge mediating between the prosecution and the defense. She was a smart woman, but this was hard to keep up with when Jackson's eyes were focused on her since the moment he came in, while she was on the stand reenacting the terror that was the flight back home, the chase, the attack, everything that happened to her. It was hard to keep her eyes away from Jackson's as she was cross examined, questioned until her throat was sore and the story ran raw in her mind.

It was almost as terrible as reliving it, but not quite. Her voice grew hoarse as she explained about the man outside of her house, how she thought that he had killed her father, and rammed him with the car. It didn't matter though, implicating herself. She was safe because of her testimony, safe from stealing the car, evading the police, shooting Jackson himself. Her father was safe too, and she was grateful for that.

As she stepped down from the stand, she saw that Jackson's face was, for a moment, betrayed and hurt, hopeless and lost. He was going to lose and he knew it from the very start. Lisa looked away from him before he could catch her staring, wishing more than anything that it didn't have to be this way, that maybe they could have really met at the airport, and he actually liked her and wanted to get to know her. The worst part was she had felt like she had connected with someone for the first time in years, attracted to the handsome face with the sea blue eyes and the dark hair. He had seemed like such a charming, wonderful man at first.

But it just goes to show that you can't trust a book by its cover.

The court took a recess until the next morning after that, and she felt relieved more than anything that she didn't have to deal with being there any longer. She stood up as they pulled Jackson back into the jail, his eyes looking back at her until the door shut behind him. She shook out her hair, and met up with Cynthia, who was looking rather concerned. "Hey Lisa?" she said, his eyes flickering to the door where Jackson had just vanished. "That guy, Rippner, he couldn't keep his eyes off of you."

"He probably wants to kill me for stabbing him in the throat with a pen," she sighed, slightly untruthfully, because she wasn't sure what he wanted from her. "Don't worry about it Cynthia, he can't hurt me." The two got coffee from a cafe across the street, Lisa's mind a million miles away, somehow still back on that airplane, going through scenarios that could have happened that didn't include anyone's death or suffering.

Standing up from the table, she said quickly, "Cynthia, I have to do something, don't, uh, wait for me okay?" Lisa didn't wait for an answer as she rushed back to the courthouse, thinking to herself that she had to have lost her mind by this point.

As she rushed through the building, Lisa stopped by a jarred door, two hushed voices conversing quickly inside. She saw the prosecuting lawyer with Keefe through the gap, and leaned closer, wondering what was going on. "...we'll pull this out near the end," the lawyer said, his hands folded together. "We'll tell Rippner that he will be charged with second degree murder for the death of Ida Moore unless he gives up his employers' information." Her blood grew cold; she knew Jackson would never betray them, he'd rather die because they would kill him anyway. "He'll talk to avoid a life sentence in jail, I know he will.

She burst into the room and the two of them glanced up at her in shock, their voices cut short at the sight of her. She didn't really have a plan, just that female based emotion that Jackson so aptly accused her of. "I'm withdrawing my statement," she said angrily, standing before the prosecutor with her hands clenched. "This isn't a fair trial, it's nothing more than a political gain for you, Keefe. This man is being unfairly tried for a crime he never committed." There was silence as the two men glanced to each other, before the lawyer nodded to him.

Keefe took a step forward and leaned down to her face, his expression more frightening than she had ever seen in her life. "If you withdraw your statement, Lisa, you can get pinned for assault, grand theft auto, three counts of attempted murder. You will be in jail for a very long time." She bit her lip, watching the two pairs of harsh eyes that were fixated on her face. "All we want from him is the name of who he was working for. If he cooperates, he gets a year in prison and then he's free on parole. If he doesn't, well, he gets 25 to life at best."

Lisa gnashed her teeth together, trying to find a way out of this for both of them. It wasn't fair that they were pinning the death of a woman on him. Yes a hunk of debris from the destruction of Keefe's room had fallen on her, but Jackson... it wasn't Jackson's fault. She couldn't stand by this and let an innocent man be charged with second degree murder when he pulled no trigger, he send no bomb into the hotel. "Let me talk to him." Keefe watched her for a moment before shrugging, motioning her to follow him.

She was led to a room with two chairs and a table and a camera in the corner. Lisa's heart was pounding like a jackhammer, knowing that in a few minutes he would walk into that room and everything she was so certain of would be gone from her mind. The door creaked, and she prepared herself, keeping her eyes away from him until the last possible moment. The chair screeched against the linoleum, and Lisa kept her eyes on her hands.

"Hello, Leese." She looked up at him and wasn't surprised to see that he still had that effect on her, sending her heart through loops, making her dizzy, making her remember the taste of his lips on hers.

"Hello, Jack," she replied, keeping her composure the best she could. "We need to talk."

"I imagine that's why you're here," he said with a smile, placing his cuffed hands on the table before him.

For a moment Lisa was taken aback by his candid demeanor, but knew that she had to do this, otherwise she knew that a part of her would be lost before she even had a chance to know truly what it was. "You need to tell them what you know, about who hired you," she said, pleading.

"Or what Lisa? The worst they have me on is attempted murder, and that's a minimal penalty even with your evidence against me." He shrugged the worry away, and she wished she could do the same, her mind heavy with the knowledge that not all was as peachy as he thought it was.

"Second degree murder, Jack," she said, running a hand through her hair. He looked confused, and she held up a hand to make him stay quiet so she could finish. "A woman was crushed by the debris from the hotel and died. They're pinning that on you with no one else to blame for her death. You didn't kill her, but you orchestrated the explosion that did." For a moment he stayed silent, and she could see that he was thinking very hard about his options. As far as she was concerned, there was truly only one to consider.

"I'm touched by your concern, Leese," he said, his voice amused. "But I can handle this myself."

She looked at her hands. "If you don't tell them, I'm going to be withdrawing my statement, Jack. They can get me on a lot of charges, but at least they can't get you on anything." Jackson's expression grew confused, but Lisa said nothing more, her eyes averted away from him.

"Why would you do that for me?"

Startled, she replied, "Not for you! Keefe is using this entire thing to further his career, Jack. To make himself look better. I can't let someone twist justice around like that." She sighed, closing her eyes sadly. "He's not the man I thought he was..."

"Maybe you should have just let him die," he offered and she glared at him. He raised his hands as far as he could in defense, the smile around his lips looking more appealing by the moment. "It was just a suggestion." They sat in silence for a few minutes, and Lisa carefully glanced his way, wondering what he was thinking. She sat up straighter in her chair and touched his hand with hers, and he gripped her fingers. Lisa was surprised she didn't pull away, surprised that she didn't take her hand back. "Leese, don't give up anything for me, I'm not worth it."

She shook her head. "You could have been," she replied sadly, watching the contrast of his skin against hers where their fingers were entwined.

"No use dwelling in the past," he advised and she nodded slowly, pulling her hands away from him, regretfully. She knew that she would never be strong enough to keep herself in check when it came to him. Her emotions were too strong after laying dormant for so much time, and she knew that if push came to shove should could fall in love with Jackson Rippner. "I wished, Lisa, the entire time I was watching you, talking with you, all of it, that I could take you with me. You've got everything I could want, but like I said, the past is the past right?"

"Don't tell me that," she said, her voice nearly a whisper, nearly toppling the chair over as she stood up. "Don't talk to me as if this is something that could ever be salvaged, that anything between us could ever grow. Not that I would want it to, but you seem pretty bent on it, Jack."

"If it came down to it," he said quietly, his eyes boring into hers, making her heart leap into her throat, her stomach erupt into flips that she couldn't control. "If it came down to it Leese, if you could choose me, would you?" She watched him for a moment, unable to speak, and nodded jerkily, hardly able to breathe. "I'm not going to tell them anything. But don't worry, Lisa, I'll come for you." The door opened at that moment, and Keefe walked in with the two guards that jerked Jackson out of his seat and away from her.

Lisa watched him go, wondering if just thinking about saving him was the only thing she could do.

AN: I did as much research as I could regarding this sort of thing, but I'm 99.999 percent sure it's still convoluted garbage, considering the legal aspect. For someone who knows better than I, sorry about that. The second part of this story will be up sometime later. I'm too tired to write the rest of it now, it's almost 2:30 in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

Why is she the first thing he thinks of when he breaks free of the talons of the police?

The night was calm and Jackson Rippner was driving along the freeway, the car he stole from a sleeping couple so inconspicuous it was a bit on the scary side. A nondescript Cadillac, silver, and very fast, but he was driving the speed limit to avoid any detection by the police. The jail still didn't realize their most important prisoner was on the loose, and Jackson allowed himself a satisfied smile at how clever he was. They wouldn't notice until morning, and he was okay with that. Give him enough time to talk, and then flee no matter what the circumstances were.

He always had an escape plan, a back up plan, and made damn sure that no matter what happened, he had a way out.

Always.

Jackson pulled up to the familiar apartment building he had spent so much of his time sitting outside of, watching her, following her, making sure he knew her better than she knew herself. It was dark, but her light was on, and he knew she was up watching late night comedy movies, invariably. The idea of it gave him a rather small rush of affection for her, and he took the stairs to the second floor. He was outside of her door, preparing to knock, wondering what she would do or say if when she saw him. Lisa was so predictable, and yet, at the same time, so utterly resourceful and brilliant that Jackson was rather impressed with her.

The knock was light but forceful on the wooden door, and the sound paused from the television. Her footsteps were soft as she trod over to the door. "Who is it?" Her voice was calm and collected through the door, and Jackson leaned against the frame, as she asked again, "Who's there?"

"Room service," he replied sarcastically, and he heard her utter a low gasp. The door was flung open, and Jackson quickly let himself in, closing it behind him. She was wearing pajamas, her hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, her expression one of shock and confusion. Working quickly, Rippner closed all her blinds and curtains, moving back into the room farthest away from the door, which seemed like her bedroom.

"Jack!" she said in a loud whisper, looking panicked. "What are you doing here? How did you even _get _here?" He gave her a quieting glance as he searched the apartment, but as far as he was aware, which was very far given his experience in situations such as this, he was safe for now. He grabbed her hand and tugged her along into her room and shut the door. "Jack!"

"Shh, Leese, for just one second okay?" He had forgotten how annoying it can be to have to explain everything to someone, to not be completely alone. She stood by her bed, looking wary and confused, and Jackson didn't really blame her. He took a seat on the edge of her bed but she did not join him, looking from him to the door in rapid succession, debating. Normally, he would have let her mull it over, but he didn't have time for that. "Lisa, you told me that if you had the choice, you would choose me, right?"

She shook her head. "I don't know what I was thinking Jack. I can't choose you." That remark cut him a little deeper than he expected, but he could tell that she was trying her hardest to push him away and keep him there. She was already as emotionally involved as he was, and they both knew it. Jackson wondered if this was the right thing to do; after all, not only was his reputation was at stake here, but so was both of their lives.

"No matter what the outcome of this," he stated bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest, "I'm going to have to run and never come back here. Hide away until the day I die. It's a choice between going to jail for the rest of my life, or getting knocked off by my employers who aren't exactly happy that I failed in the operation to knock off Keefe. I'm hiding from somebody somewhere, no matter what." She was silent through his speech, but she had slumped to the floor a hand over her heart. "You can make it a little more bearable for me, if you really did decide to choose me."

She whispered, "Where would we go?"

"Anywhere you want, with a few minor exceptions."

"What would we do?"

He shrugged. "Lie low for a few years, probably somewhere in Brazil. I've got enough cash to last us a lifetime, Lisa, somewhere like that. Change our names, pay the first smuggler enough money to ship us out of the country, and from there, well, what we do is our business, right?" She stared at him as if he was insane, and well, perhaps he was. But by this point, this far into the game, he didn't really care about trite details like that.

"And if I say no?"

Jackson paused there for a moment, letting her words sink in for a moment. "Well, you'll never see me again, Leese, and if that's what you want, which is perfectly understandable all things considered. All I ask is that you don't tell anyone you've seen me or what I told you." Her expression looked appalled, and Jackson suddenly felt prickling sense of apprehension. She wouldn't... would she? Fuck, she would. He shouldn't have said anything, he shouldn't have told her.

He should have known that underneath it all, Lisa was still a good, honest, decent person and she would never choose him, no matter what. He compromised himself by coming her, by believing that maybe she felt something between them that was more than captive and captor. "I have to go," he said quickly, jumping up from her mattress and heading for the door. "I won't tell you what to do Lisa, but, as a request, please, do as I asked you."

She gripped his wrist, her eyes looking terrified. "Jack, what should I bring?" For a moment Jackson Rippner was stunned into silence, but the look on her face convinces him of what he wasn't sure of before.

"Change into casual clothes, and that's it. Don't bring anything; no pictures, no phone, nothing identifiable. Cash is fine if you have it, but no cards or IDs." She nodded frantically as she stumbled into her walk in closet and back out in less than two minutes wearing jeans and a plain purple tee shirt. His heart was pounding as she did as he told her, grabbing an envelope of money from under her mattress and handing it to him before shutting off her cell phone and hurrying to get her sneakers on. "It's going to be rough at first," he told her hesitantly as they paused at her door.

"I can handle it," she replied, looking terrified.

"I know." The two hurried out of the apartment and rushed to the stolen car, and Jackson was driving carefully towards the pier. "I have a plan," he mentioned, glancing at her pallid face. She seemed a little calmer now, but still as if she might throw up at any given time. "Always have a backup plan for a job like this. I've got a guy waiting at the port. I have no idea what he does legally, but illegally, he's one of the best black market traders in the country." She nodded, still speechless, and Jackson could tell she couldn't believe she was doing this. "We need to change our names, now."

"Right now?" her voice squeaked.

"Now. We need a cover, but we don't look anything alike, so brother and sister won't cut it. Do you have any problem with being husband and wife?" She looked like she strained her neck when she turned to stare at him so abruptly, looking embarrassed and confused at the same time. "I'll take that as a no. I've got a cover, complete with passports and everything ready for us already, so don't get upset when you're referred to as Alana Decker with her husband Liam Decker."

"Fine," she whispered, gripping the inner door handle so tightly that her knuckles were white.

There was silence as they drove, the lights flickering by too quickly to make out on the highway. Lisa stared out the window, her eyes fixated on a single spot somewhere outside that Jackson just couldn't see. "You didn't have to come," he said after a moment, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look at her face.

"You knew I was going to," she replied simply. "You had the identity made already and everything."

"It was just in case," he answered, pulling to a stop at the edge of the wharf. It was a chilly night, and they felt it the moment they stepped outside of the car. He could smell the salty air, as he took Lisa by the hand, wondering if it was appropriate and not giving a damn if it wasn't. Jackson Rippner, the persona he created, the person he pretended to be was nothing more than a mask. Even after everything that happened on that plane, in her home, in the hospital room, none of that was really who he was. All Jackson wanted was a life to call his own, where he called the shots instead of the shots being called for him in every aspect of his being.

Lisa didn't seem to object as they made their way to a larger vessel that still had a light on. "It's not too late to go back," he said quietly, standing at the edge of the ramp to the ship, letting go of her. He wanted it to be her decision; he'd had enough of manipulating her life to let it happen here. "I have to leave, no matter what you decide. Keefe's got my head on a silver platter if I don't, and even if by some miracle I go free, I'm a dead man."

"I'm coming," she told him, her face more certain of this statement than she had looked all night. "All my life I've been pushed around, Jack, all my life I've been hounded and harassed and used by almost everyone just to get the few things I actually want out of it. Especially by you." He winced, but she continued looking impassioned. "You tried to kill me and my father, you tried to kill Keefe, which seeing now may not have been so bad for you, all things considered. But I know you, Jack, I know that somewhere down there, there's a guy was manipulated too, into doing things he didn't necessarily want to do just to get the few simple things he wanted.

"You're not a bad person. I know you're not. When I told you about what happened to me, I knew that you sympathized, you felt badly for it. I could tell. You genuinely felt sorry for me. We're alike, we want things badly enough to let ourselves be put in situations we'd rather avoid. We let ourselves be talked down to and used out of fear, or intimidation, or by the desire for our own personal gain. Whatever it is, it really doesn't matter.

"I'm here Jack, not out of some misguided affection for you, or love, or anything like that. I'm here because I'm sure that eventually, when I see who you really are, it could become that. I can feel that there's something more here than both of us know, and I want to find out what it is."

Jackson did not say a word after she finished, and she looked slightly worried, like she had said too much, or what she said have been ridiculous or foolish in some way. Sure, it could have been an except from a cheesy dime novel or romantic comedy, but somehow, it struck a chord with him. Deeply. She believed in all that fate and destiny shit that had absolutely no merit with him, but he didn't care. Hell, maybe Lisa was right in some crazy way. He didn't love her, but misguided affection could potentially, and accurately, describe the situation. "Fuck Lisa," he said, breathing a sigh of relief.

She shrugged. "I'm not trying to placate you, just telling you how it is."

"Right." He hurried up to the deck and she followed suit looking more relaxed than he had ever seen her. Which was a bit ironic, all things considered. They were about to smuggle themselves out of the country, change their identities, live among the poor and filthy and downtrodden for who knows how long until the scandal had blown over enough for them to show their face more publicly. "It's still not too late, Leese."

She watched him for a moment. "I'm not going anywhere, Jack. Or Liam, I guess right?" He nodded and leaned against the deck of the ship.

"Hey, Rippner!" Jackson turned around and saw the rugged captain of the ship come from below deck, a hand in greeting. "We'll be leaving in a minute, best for you and your lady friend to get below and wait it out." He nodded and pulled Lisa down the stairs with him into the hull.

"Promise me something, Jack," she said hesitantly. He looked back at her as he moved the panels to reveal a small, but cozy, little room near the storage area. "No matter what happens, I won't leave. Promise me you'll never leave me behind."

"I swear."

AN: I had to research boats too. My, oh, my I'm making my job difficult. Anyway, that's the end, I guess, maybe I'll write some sort of actiony chase sequence through the streets of some city in Brazil when they're discovered or something... later, but as for now, I'm done with this little thing. I hate chapter stories. This chapter was going to be full of car chases and shit, but I mean, I don't know, Jackson seems the type to be so clever that he can just win no matter what. Except, you know, when Lisa thwarts his plans and all. And this was supposed to be a completely separate story from To the End, but, well, it ended up being the ending. This note is becoming too long. I'll shut up now.


End file.
